


Delayed

by Lyrakish



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 08:56:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12317802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrakish/pseuds/Lyrakish
Summary: Evac times are bullshit, and Hanzo is a smooth mother-fucker.





	Delayed

Jesse McCree always knew his life was going to be a world of ups and downs. Not only had his mother told him so from a young age, but it also played out in how the world liked to lift him up a little and then throw him down like a used wrapper. A decent childhood led to rough teenage years, which led to Deadlock, that snowballed into the clusterfuck that was his rocky entrance into Blackwatch, which turned out ok in the end. The fall from grace and losing his arm, to Overwatch banding back together. His little family all back as it once was and including some new faces that he loved dearly.

The morning had been so good too, maybe that was why he sat flat on his ass with a sniper bullet jammed in his left shoulder. His metal arm only went midway over the upper arm, the rest was living, and pain feeling, flesh. Joy. The bullet had gracefully ricocheted off a wall before making a cosy home in his shoulder, about 3 inches from his collar bone. He could feel the hard metal in the meat of his shoulder, the pain radiated out from there in a maelstrom of curses. Thankfully the whole operation leading up to his gunshot wound was all finished and he was awaiting evac, Angela was on her way with speed.

“10 minutes my tanned fucking ass,” he groused to himself and chewed on the end of his cigarillo. Damn thing had snuffed out when he had darted around a corner to hide from the sniper in the rooftops. Just peachy, nothing to dull the pain. The wound throbbed as he lamented the lack of nicotine to take his mind off. That’s one thing, of the many, that he missed about Blackwatch. Reyes sneaking him a cigarette or cigarillo if he was injured or stressed to fuck. Lighting the thing for him if he couldn’t, telling crude stories and offering an arm to cling onto while evac was incoming. Now he was on his lonesome, waiting. Angela had said 10 minutes. That was 20 minutes ago. He took a glance at the slowly oozing wound and was thankful for his meagre medical kit, containing a wad of gauze he could staunch the bleeding with. Still, he would have preferred some company.

A scraping from above him made Jesse start and jostle his wound. With a bitten off curse he tried to look up at the intruder. Maybe they had come to finish him off? The view was a lot more welcome however, Hanzo was skidding down the roof tiles and gracefully landing next to Jesse with a muted tap. “I have found McCree,” he spoke into his comm as he lightly touched the device in his ear. “I have activated my beacon, hurry.”  
“Copy Hanzo. McCree, sorry for the delay. We were ambushed by your sniper friend.” The reply from Mercy was rushed, Jesse could hear the strain in her voice. She was running.  
“Yeah? I hope nobody else got a present from that purple bitch,” he hissed his reply back and grinned a little at his new companion.  
“No, Soldier spooked her. Did you hear the explosion?” Mercy was smiling, he could hear it in her voice.  
“Ah, proximity surprise. My favourite, give ‘im my thanks.” Jesse nodded to Hanzo as he approached. The shorter man was fumbling with a pack at his side, an obvious medical kit.  
“Thank him yourself, he’s sprinting to your position with a Biotic Field. I promise we’re only 10 minutes away this time.” The comm ended there and Jesse was left with a concerned looking Hanzo.  
“Archer, mighty fine to see you,” he commented lightly. The smile on his face was stolen then by a lance of pain. He curled within himself and favoured the shoulder.  
“I believe my timing was apt considering the state you are in. I have some supplies, I can help.” Hanzo’s voice was smooth and even as always, the familiarity comforting.

The archer stepped over to McCree and knelt down, his bow laid next to him. The pack did indeed contain medical supplies, too many for Jesse to make note of as another lance of pain clawed at his skin. In the throes of agony he felt Hanzo support his other shoulder and offer some sort of empathy. The pain faded to the throb of before and Jesse tilted his head to see the stoic Hanzo looking concerned. “M’alright, just glad to have someone with me.”  
“76 wasn’t too far behind me, but I can do something for you in the meantime.” Hanzo then slipped something from the pack at his side and held it in front of him. Tweezers. Hanzo’s expression had gone from concerned to sympathetic, Jesse knew the drill.  
“Aw hell, really?”  
“I am afraid so. Soldier’s Biotic Field will close the wound around the bullet and lead to more issues later. I would rather it out. However, this does earn you the sip of my Sake you have always been craving.” Hanzo’s knowing smile was warm.  
“‘Spose that makes up for everythin’,” Jesse groused and tugged his stetson down further, knowing full well what was coming next. He heard Hanzo shuffle into a better position and unclip the gourd at his side. Jesse took it with his good hand and drank deeply, coughing as the burn trailed down his throat and into his belly. “You’ve been holdin’ out on me Han, damn.” Hanzo was smiling softly as he spread fresh gauze out on his knee and peered at the wound through McCree’s ruined shirt.  
“Never second best as I say. This shirt, do you have a fondness for it?”  
“Not with a hole in it and soaked in blood,” answered McCree. He knew why Hanzo was asking. The shorter man pulled an arrow from the quiver on his back and deftly sliced across the stitching of the shirt, revealing McCree’s abused shoulder. Hanzo hissed in empathetic pain and started to peer at the still oozing wound.

“You did well to stem the bleeding,” he commented. Hanzo began to clean away the excess blood so he could see better.  
“Ain’t my first rodeo, and won’t be the last. I can be certain of that,” McCree replied with a resigned tone. “Fuck, wish I had my smokes. Take the edge off.”  
Hanzo snorted at that. “You, without your precious cancer sticks? Pshh,” he started to chuckle. “What has the world come to?”  
“Hey now you back off with that cancer bullshit, you smoke too!” McCree’s incredulous tone wasn’t as harsh as he sounded.  
“Mine is herbal. No nicotine, no tar, and certainly no cancer. You should try my Kiseru sometime, you might like it.”  
McCree sank lower into his serape and mumbled, “ _like to Kiseru you instead_.” His mumbling was bitten off as Hanzo began work. The taller man turned his head into his good shoulder and swallowed a howl of pain. As quickly as it came, it was gone, and the tinkling of metal roused him.

“Are you still with me, Gunslinger? It is gone,” Hanzo’s hand was warm on his clammy shoulder. When had he started to pant? When had it got so cold? Must be the shock, shit. He was going to regret the day he was born in the morning.  
“M’here, ‘nfortunately.” His accent had thickened considerably.  
“Good. Thankfully the shot was clean and near the surface, I could tease the blasted thing out without causing too much distress.” Hanzo sounded proud of himself, so McCree told him as such. Hanzo laughed as a retort and gently applied pressure to the fresh gauze on the wound. “I got here before that aging Soldier, even with the enhancements, and pulled a bullet from you. I think I did pretty well, hmm?”  
“That ya did, that ya did.”

Silence fell between them for a second, then the familiar sound of pulse rifles and curses. Both turned to the sound and hunched closer. “ _Kuso_ , I thought we had the last of them,” Hanzo swore.  
“Me too. I thought Ang said they got them all?”  
“I will check,” replied the archer gently. He touched his ear with his clean hand and spoke softly. “I thought you had them all?”  
Static, then the sound of pulse fire closer than before. “We did. More of them came up top, looks like this place has some underground tunneling. We’re currently playing whack-a-mole, but we’re winning.” Ah, 76. Happy as always when knee deep in danger. “How’s the patient?”  
“M’fine, just feeling a little neglected. Was it somethin’ I said?” He heard chuckling on the other end of the line, Hanzo’s face was full of mirth.  
“We’ll be with you...eventually.” 76’s reply was clipped off and the line was closed.  
“Must be concentrating on something,” commented Hanzo. He was checking the wound periodically. “I have tape with me that will hold this together. I would rather not move you however,” he looked over to McCree with apprehension. “How are you?”

“Fuckin’ peachy,” McCree grit his teeth and closed his eyes as the wound throbbed away with his heartbeat. “Just an odd question though, Han. Where in the fuck did you get those tweezers? Those ain’t standard issue in the kits. I damn well know, I have one.”  
The smile he got back was dazzling. “Do you remember, a few months back, you asked me how I kept my facial hair so trim and proper?”  
McCree thought for a moment, and put two and two together. “You rat bastard!” He exclaimed and thumped Hanzo in the arm. Said man was snickering and pressing his forehead against the wall over McCree’s shoulder. “I hope you clean those fuckin’ things. You said you just shaved!”  
“I am allowed to lie, am I not?” Hanzo’s answer was littered with his chuckling. “If I did not keep myself so trim I would be like a mountain man...or you” He pointed to McCree’s face then and looked very serious. For all of a second, then almost fell over laughing.  
“Aw hell, fuck off. Teasin’ a wounded man like that. Prick,” chided McCree with a small smile.  
“It made you laugh, therefore my work was worth it.”

Heavy footsteps sounded and Soldier ducked around the corner, looking a little winded. “Evening, sorry about that.” He tugged a Biotic Field from his arm and set it down. “I’m gonna go flag Mercy down. Tracer is bringing the carrier over, we’ll hover so you don’t have to walk too far.” Both men nodded at 76, and allowed him to duck back around the corner. The alleyway McCree had been sat in became that bit louder, the cavalry was coming. As he felt relief wash over him Hanzo suddenly came into his vision. For a second he caught a flash of brown eyes, and then he was kissed. A brief press of lips, hardly a breath passed, and he pulled back. Stunned, McCree looked to Hanzo with confusion.  
“You said you would like to ‘Kiseru’ me, so I took the initiative. I might have also wanted to see your face,” McCree kept his dumbfounded look and gulped the knot in his throat. “I must say, worth it.”

Rat bastard.

**Author's Note:**

> This literally came about because I had an idea that Hanzo is very into his grooming practices and likes to punk McCree. Written over two days because I got distracted by OOOHH SHINY and have no attention span. Haven't written in ages, sorry if it's disjointed. Kudos are love, comments are a cheeky butt slap and a wink. ;)


End file.
